Spider-Man is Sick
by Sunnyflight170
Summary: Spider-Man is sick, and he gets help from two very unlikely sources. I can't say the story is better then the description, that's up to you!


**I know, I know. I couldn't help it, I was trying to sleep (unsuccessfully) and I kept thinking about this until I fell asleep at 4:00 AM. I got up and thought i'd write it down and not publish it, but then I decided I wanted to.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Spider-Man**

Spider Man's POV

I leaped across the building tops in New York. In the rain. "Man, my throat is killing me," I muttered. Unfortunately, I had to ignore it and continue patrolling the city. It was part of my job as Spider-Man.

My nose started to itch just as I came to came to the edge of the building I was on. I grabbed the bottom of the mask and pulled it over my nose. Then I tried to stop, but I slipped on the wet roof and pitched over the side, smacking into a fire escape before hitting the ground.

"Ow," I muttered.

"Hey, are you ok?" a voice asked from outside the alleyway, peering in at me.

It was a voice I recognized. Jameson's son, John.

"Uh, yea I'm fine," I called back.

John entered the alley. "Are you sure? That seemed like a bad fall, and your voice is all scratchy."

I backed away. "Yea, I'm ok." I really did not want this guy to recognize me, since his dad kind of hated me and all.

"Why don't you go home?" John asked. "You sound really sick."

"Can't," I told him. "I've got stuff to do." Like keeping the people of New York safe from harm.

"You can't take a break?" John asked.

"Nope." I backed up a little more. "I really have to-" a motion detector on the building we were standing next to lit up, and I could see John perfectly. Which meant he could see me.

Sure enough, he gasped. "Spider-Man!" he got a determined look on his face. "That settles it. You've done so much for this city, you deserve to take a sick day. Come on, you can come to my house and rest."

I shook my head. "Sorry John. I can't, I have to patrol the city." I backed up, and crashed into someone standing behind me. I spun around, and backed up two feet.

The figure came into the light.

"Flint?" I asked.

Flint Marco looked down at me. "Spidey, I agree with John. You deserve one sick day. He looked over my shoulder, and my spidey sense tingled.

Flint grabbed a hold of me, and I started to struggle. But as much as I hated to admit it, I was tired and weak, and Flint was stronger than me.

Flint looked at John. "Ready to head to your house?"

"Definitely. But I don't think the police and Spidey's friends are going to let us walk down the street with him like that." He nodded at me held tightly in Flint's arms.

"I've got it covered." Flint made a square of sand that rose all three of us to the building top. "Where's your house?" he asked John.

"Just over there." John pointed over at a building a couple buildings away. "How do we get there?"

"Like this." Flint spread sand over the buildings to John's house, and started to walk.

"You guys," I said. "I can't just take a sick day. I have to-"

"No protesting," John interrupted. "You're sick and you need to rest. Not to mention falling off a building."

We arrived at John's house, and Flint put me down on the couch.

John went into the bathroom, and came out with something in his hands. He saw me try getting up, and he nodded at Flint. Flint he put his hands on my shoulders, holding me down.

John came over, and pulled my mask up.

"What are you doing?" I cried out, struggling against Flint's grip.

"Relax," John said gently. He rested the mask on the bridge of my nose. "I'm just taking your temperature. Open wide."

I decided not to argue, and opened my mouth.

John stuck the thermometer in, and held it there. I glared up at him and Flint with my eyes. "You guys suck," I mumbled around the thermometer.

Flint smiled at me. "You'll thank us later."

The thermometer beeped, and John pulled it out of my mouth, then looked at it. "99.9," he announced. "You've got a temperature."

He stepped back, and looked at me. "Not that I don't trust you, but.. Flint, keep holding him down. I'll be right back." he darted into the bathroom again, and came back out with a wet washrag. He came over and laid it on my forehead. "Hopefully this will bring your temperature down."

"I really don't need all this," I told them. "I feel fine."

"You're a bad liar," John said. "Your throat still hurt?"

"I never said it hurt!" I protested. John and Flint both looked at me knowingly, and I sighed in defeat. "Yea, it does."

"Thought so." John went to the kitchen, and came back with a mug in his hands. "Let him up Flint," John said. Flint let go of my arms, and I sat up. John shoved the mug into my hands. "It's hot chocolate," he told me. "Drink up."

I lifted the mug to my mouth, and took a small drink. The hot chocolate burned slightly, but it felt really good. Soon, I'd drained the cup.

John took it from me. "Feel better?" he asked.

"A little," I responded.

Flint gently pushed my shoulders back down, and John lifted my head and put a pillow under it. "You go ahead and rest, Spider-Man. You've earned it."

They both walked out the door, and my eyes closed for a second. Then I opened one, then the other. They were gone. I swung my feet two the side, and stood up.

I adjusted a blanket to make it look like I was still there, then turned to the window. I opened it, then screamed and jumped back. Flint was standing there with his arms crossed.

"Don't even think about it, buddy." he grabbed a hold of me and pulled me into John's bedroom. It had no windows. "We thought you might try to get out without resting. So you-" he poked my chest. "Are going to rest in John's bedroom." he pointed at the bed. "Get in."

I groaned, but climbed under the covers and closed my eyes, letting my body go limp. It actually really felt good to rest.

"Goodnight, Spider-Man," Flint said softly.


End file.
